


What a difference a night makes.

by Readingfanfics



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Awkwardness, First Kiss, First Time, Frustration, Happy Ending, M/M, Sharing a Bed, Sharing a Room, blowjob, handjob, it's not been the best of days
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-08-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:08:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 17,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24476980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Readingfanfics/pseuds/Readingfanfics
Summary: Greg and Sherlock find themselves stranded in a small town during a case because of bad weather. There is only one hotel, that only happens to have one room left so there is nothing left to do then share it.
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/Greg Lestrade
Comments: 65
Kudos: 157





	1. POV GREG. Hotelroom.

“So”, Greg started, his eyes going over the hotel room before his gaze stopped at the bed. “What side do you want to sleep on?” He dropped his coat on the nearby chair, feeling dead tired and icky. He’d been running after Sherlock all day, tracking down several leads for a case but somehow getting nowhere. The weather had worsened, up to the point that now the snow was so high they couldn’t drive back to London. At least they’d found a hotel and Greg was still grateful for that, even if he had to share his bed with Sherlock bloody Holmes. He turned his head, raising an eyebrow when Sherlock still hadn’t answered. 

“Either one is fine, Lestrade. I don’t have a preferred side.” Sherlock finally responded, his voice sounded softer than usual. His eyes were small and something inside Greg’s heart cracked when he saw Sherlock rub his eyes, trying to suppress a yawn. At least he looked more human, though he wasn’t nearly as dirty or rumbled like Greg was. Sherlock walked further into the room, still wearing his coat and Greg’s gloves. Greg saw his eyes go over every inch of the room, could practically hear his mind work as his eyes stayed a second too long on the bed. He turned around, looking outside the window. The snow was still falling, covering the ugliness of the world up. Sherlock brushed a hand through his curls before closing the curtains and sitting down in front of the small desk. He pulled out his phone, the blue light on Sherlock’s face making him seem paler and more tired. 

“Sherlock.” Greg sighed. He threw off his shoes, his feet aching from standing up and walking around so long. He yawned loudly, his body shivering, mostly from tiredness but they had been outside all day and the temperature was far belong freezing point so there was that. He walked towards the thermostat, setting the temperature of the room higher. Sherlock was still fiddling with his phone, his mouth set in a tight line and Greg wanted to go over there and grab it, maybe toss it out the window for good measure. Instead, he let out a heavy sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose before looking at Sherlock again. “For god’s sake, can you stop playing with that thing for 5 seconds and just answer the damn question!” 

His voice must have been louder than he’d planned to by the way Sherlock’s head snapped up, placing his phone down on the desk when he met Greg’s gaze. 

“I know this isn’t exactly ideal but there is no way we can get back to London tonight so, can you at least try to make it a tad easier?” Greg asked, wanting to growl when Sherlock frowned at him, seemingly miles away from the here and now. Greg gestured to the bed, pulling off his suit jacket and slamming it on there. 

“Just tell me what side you sleep on.” Greg snapped, his neck cracking when he moved his head. He felt a decade older tonight, his body worn out and weary. His stomach grumbled and he looked down to frown at it. Maybe that was the reason he had a short temper, being tired and hungry was never a good combination. 

“L-left. I sleep on the left side.” Sherlock said, his eyes going over Greg’s face and body, probably deducing a million things about him. Greg sucked in his stomach, feeling like a right fool but he couldn’t help it. Sherlock didn’t comment, his eyes going to the bed again and Greg cleared his throat awkwardly. 

“Okay. Good. I’ll just-” Greg pointed to the door of the bathroom, seeing Sherlock nod his head. He breathed out, grabbing his jacket off the bed and placing it on the chair with his coat. “Okay then. I’ll- Yeah.” Greg closed his mouth, willing himself to step inside the bathroom and close the door. 

He let out a heavy sigh, rubbing his hands over his face as he expanded his stomach again. He shook his head at himself, muttering ‘idiot’ to himself. He quickly undressed, thankful for all the supplies available in the hotel. He let out a satisfied groan when the warm water hit his body, removing all the dirt, grime, and stress. He washed his hair, taking longer than usual to wash his body. By the time he stepped outside and dried off, he felt like a new man. Still an exhausted one but at least he didn’t smell like he hadn’t seen a shower in a week. 

He stood in front of the mirror, debating if he wanted to put on his clothes again. Just the idea of putting on his dirty clothes made him shiver and he decided against it, only stepping into his underwear and gratefully slipping on the hotel dressing gown. It was soft, fluffy, and warm and Greg wanted to moan in delight. He combed his hair, brushed his teeth, and put on a little bit of deodorant from the hotel. He felt a thousand times better. He looked at the closed bathroom door, a twinge of guilt in his stomach for how he’d snapped at Sherlock earlier. The man couldn’t help it that they were stuck here and Greg decided to be more patient from now on. Sherlock didn’t do well around people so being trapped here with Greg would probably be a nightmare for the man. Greg breathed out, pulling the sash of his dressing gown tight. He stared at his unsocked feet for a few seconds, gathering up his courage, and then he unlocked the door, ready to meet Sherlock’s critical gaze again.


	2. POV Sherlock: Restaurant

“It will take around 20 minutes, Sir. You can sit anywhere you want while you wait. Do you want something to drink?” 

“A glass of lemonade.” Sherlock said, stepping towards the table closest to him. He put down the bag he’d been carrying, his eyes scanning the room as he took off his gloves before sitting down in the chair. He pulled a face, shifting his body ever so slightly but the chair still felt uncomfortable. 

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose before looking into the restaurant again. His mind instantly started deducing and Sherlock knew in a few moments who was angry, who was horny, and who was as fed up with the day as he was. He seriously doubted anyone was at the same level as him tonight. Maybe Lestrade? 

The beverage being placed before him shook him out of his deductions, offering the waiter a smile in gratitude and bringing the glass to his lips before the man had even fully turned. He downed the glass in two large gulps, his mouth and throat screaming in gratitude as the liquid went further down his body. For some reason, he’d really needed the sugar and he pulled another face when he heard his stomach growling loudly. He couldn’t exactly blame his body. Today had not been the greatest. He’d been up since 4 in the morning, only having a cup of tea and a banana. Then the case had taken a hold of him and he’d forgotten about anything else. 

A mild irritation rose up as Sherlock thought about the case. It had seemed so simple and straightforward when it had just come in. He’d actually laughed out loud when Lestrade had told him about it. He wasn’t anywhere near laughing now. The case was far from closed and something that had seemed so simple and boring had changed into something very complex and frustrating. They’d been spending most of their day following leads that lead to another one, then lead to another one and then ended up dead. Back to where they started, only now more confused and irritated. The snow hadn’t helped, making it difficult to walk in, slowing them down and chilling Sherlock to the bone. 

Sherlock couldn’t stop a beginning smile when he remembered Lestrade’s concern masked as irritation. 

“You need to buy yourself a better coat. And where are your damn gloves?” Lestrade had almost shouted, pulling off his own pair to hand to Sherlock. No matter how much Sherlock had protested, Lestrade hadn’t taken them back. He’d just given Sherlock a stern look, arms crossed in front of him. The memory warmed Sherlock’s heart and he patted the gloves laying on the table. 

_He really is too good for you._

Sherlock clenched his jaw, the bell of the restaurant clinging making it easier to ignore his own thoughts. Sherlock’s eyes followed the couple coming inside, his mind buzzing with facts and deductions. The woman was shaking, rubbing her hands together as the man led her inside, pulling out a chair for her and gesturing to the waiter. The concern for his partner was real as he leaned forward, reaching for her hand and giving her a small smile. Sherlock looked away, a pit inside his stomach as he took out his phone to check the time. 

More than enough time left. He wanted to get back before Lestrade was out of the bathroom. He’d irritated the man enough today. If he wasn’t in the room when Lestrade was done showering, he would only get worried and Sherlock didn’t want that. It was his fault they were stuck here in the first place. He’d been too stubborn, not wanting to give up on a lead that was minuscule. He didn’t take failure well, not solving a puzzle made him restless, a bit careless too. Lestrade had followed him all day, barely complaining and hardly questioning him.

One of the waiters came out with two plates of food and the smells hit Sherlock's nose hard. His stomach grumbled again and Sherlock looked down in irritation and a bit of guilt. If he was so hungry, how did Lestrade feel? He knew the man had stopped at a little bakery around noon but the pastry had hardly been enough. Sherlock looked at his phone again, the spike of guilt raising as it was close to 10 PM. Lestrade was probably starving by now, no wonder he’d snapped at Sherlock earlier. 

_Can’t exactly blame him now, can you?_

Sherlock rubbed his forehead, closing his eyes for a few moments as he tried to tune out the sounds and smells of the restaurant. His brain was in overdrive, still racing around, still firing off questions, taking in every single detail. It was exhausting and Sherlock rubbed his temples harder, tiredness beginning to seep in. The chair he was sitting on was uncomfortable but the room was warm, the smells inviting and Sherlock longed for the food to arrive. He also desperately wanted to shower, his clothes feeling like sandpaper whenever he moved. He probably didn’t smell nice either and he opened his eyes again, wrapping his coat tighter around himself. He shifted in the chair, his back nagging at him. The bag next to him fell down and he picked it up, placing it on the table in front of him. He bit his lip as he looked at the bag. It had seemed like the logical thing to do but now Sherlock wondered if he’d crossed some sort of boundary. He bit his lip harder, opening the bag and looking at the clothes inside them. Just touching the fabrics made Sherlock sigh, his whole body aching to shower and change. Neither of them had spare clothes with them so Sherlock had decided to find some new ones. He’d only found a night store so the quality wasn’t great but it was better than nothing. No way in hell was he putting on the clothes he’d been wearing since 4 in the morning after he showered. And he doubted Lestrade would appreciate it if Sherlock would sleep in the nude like he usually did at home. 

Still, even though it sounded logical, Sherlock was nervous. He had a fair idea of Lestrade’s measurements and tastes but he wasn’t sure how the man would react to it. Maybe he’d be angry? Or offended? Or maybe he’d be happy with clothes that didn’t smell like dirt and sweat for working in them all day? Sherlock hoped the later was the case. it was bad enough for Lestrade that he was stuck in this town and that he had to share a room with Sherlock. He didn’t want to offend or upset him any more than he’d already had. His fingers went over the clothes, debating if he was going to offer them to Lestrade or just toss them in the first garbage bin he found once his food was ready. It wasn’t anything too fancy or expensive, it did come from a night shop after all. It was just a clean, light blue shirt, some practical underwear and a warm and soft pajama. Lestrade couldn’t possibly get mad over that, right?

_Only one way to find out. Don’t be a coward, Sherlock!_

Sherlock sighed and shook his head, irritated with himself. When it came to things like this, other people and social situations, he hardly knew what he was doing. Lestrade was a pretty easy person to read but that didn’t mean Sherlock knew everything about him. There were still moments that threw Sherlock off guard. Just earlier, when they’d stepped inside the room and Lestrade had snapped at him to stop playing with his phone. Of course, Lestrade didn’t know what Sherlock had been doing and Sherlock not answering the question had probably come off as either him not caring or him being angry or frustrated for having to stay here and not get back to London. 

Sherlock’s stomach twisted when he remembered the tired eyes staring at him, just a sliver of irritation in them when Sherlock had stumbled out his response on which side he slept. He didn’t really care but Lestrade preferred the right so it wasn’t hard to decide. Lestrade’s question had thrown Sherlock off, only then realizing that this was actually happening. They were going to spend the night in the same bed together and Sherlock still wasn’t sure how he felt about that. 

_Don’t lie to yourself, Bee._

“Mister Holmes! Food is ready!”

Sherlock jolted out of his thoughts, grateful he didn’t have to think about the whole sleeping in the same bed together for much longer. He pushed down his brother’s voice in his head, locking it closed in one of the rooms of his Mind Palace. He pocketed his phone, picking up the bag from the table before going to the counter and collecting his food. The hint of different smells made Sherlock’s stomach grumble again. He remembered to thank the person behind the counter and made his way back to the hotel as quickly as he could in all that snow. He really hoped Lestrade wouldn’t mind the clothes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this chapter!
> 
> The next one will be around the end of June. Hope to see you then. 
> 
> You can find me on: https://writingfanficsfan.tumblr.com/ for updates on WIP and sneak peeks.


	3. POV Lestrade:Hotelroom

The first thing Greg noticed when he stepped out of the bathroom was the change of smell. His stomach sang in delight as he sniffed the air, a mix of chicken, rice, garlic, and a bunch of other things that made Greg’s mouth water. His gaze settled on the desk in the corner of the room, a bunch of containers placed on them, with two paper plates waiting. 

“What the-” Greg started, stepping closer, taking a deep breath and his stomach grumbled even louder. 

“Bon appetit, Lestrade.” Sherlock said, gesturing to the desk, a small smile on his lips as Greg looked at him with wide eyes. 

“How did you-” 

“There was a restaurant not very far from here. I figured you’d be starving by now.” Sherlock answered, holding up his phone for a second before putting it down on the nightstand. 

“You- So that’s why-” Greg stopped, guilt hitting him as he realized why Sherlock had been on his phone earlier. He'd used his phone to find a restaurant to get them food. He hadn’t been ignoring Greg or acting difficult at all. Greg wanted to crawl into the ground, his face heating up as Sherlock’s eyebrow went up just a fraction. Greg started to open his mouth to apologize but Sherlock just shook his head once, turning to look at the desk. 

“Sherlock, this is- amazing.” Greg breathed out as he stopped next to the desk, reaching for a slice of bread and letting out a moan when he took a big bite. Sherlock’s little smile came back, his face softer as he watched Greg for a moment. 

“Best bread I’ve tasted.” Greg said, smiling when Sherlock rolled his eyes at him. “I mean it, it’s really great bread.” Greg smiled wide, taking another piece and holding it in front of Sherlock. “Try it, you’ll know I’m not exaggerating.” 

“Does that mean you don’t want the rest of the food?” Sherlock asked as he took the piece Greg had offered. Sherlock took a bite, closing his eyes for a second, and Greg swallowed, his throat suddenly feeling raw as he looked at Sherlock licking his lips after swallowing. Sherlock titled his head, squinting his eyes as he watched Greg with focus and it took a second or two for him to remember Sherlock’s question. Sherlock’s eyes sparkled when he moved forward, pretending to take the plates away. Greg swatted Sherlock’s hand away, shaking his head fiercely and letting out a shout of protest as he angled his body in front of the food. He nearly died when Sherlock giggled in response, the sparkle in his eyes somehow brighter.

“Okay, okay, the message is clear. Enjoy the food, Lestrade. All of it.” Sherlock held up his hands in surrender, gesturing to the desk before turning and stepping away. 

“Wait, where are you going?” Greg reached out, taking Sherlock’s wrist and stopping him. He only now noticed that Sherlock had removed his coat and suit jacket and Greg’s fingers seemed to tingle as he touched Sherlock’s skin. Sherlock opened his mouth to speak, letting out a cough before being able to form words, his eyes fleetingly going down to where Greg was still holding him. 

“Sorry.” Greg let go, running a hand through his damp hair, his stomach twisting into a knot. “I know you don’t- sorry.” Greg stumbled over his words, his cheeks burning as Sherlock stood there, squinting his eyes just a bit. Sherlock rubbed at his wrist, looking down at it before meeting Greg’s gaze again and something changed in his expression. 

“It’s fine, Lestrade. I don’t like it when strangers touch me, or people I don’t know well. You are neither.” Sherlock glanced away, his upper lip moving up when their eyes met again and Greg breathed out, the knot in his stomach releasing. It wasn’t something they talked about often but Greg had noticed how Sherlock tensed or even flinched when victims or family members or even coworkers at the Yard touched him. He’d always made it a point to respect Sherlock’s boundaries, only touching him when it was needing. Like that time he’d pushed Sherlock out of the way right before the gunshots started. Or when he’d steadied him on the very slippery road just today. 

Sherlock cleared his throat, touching his earlobe, and Greg’s heart melted at the gesture. “You’re not going to let me eat alone, are you?” Greg asked, ignoring his demanding stomach. The idea of eating alone sounded just wrong and he wanted to spend more time with Sherlock like this. Not talking about murder and pain but just about silly things, like life-changing bread. 

“I-” Sherlock stopped, gesturing behind him, his face apologetic. “I- I really need a shower, Lestrade. There wasn’t any time before, so.” Sherlock shifted his weight, pulling at the collar of his black shirt, a flash of disgust on his face.

“Fuck! Of course, yeah. Go shower!” Greg called out, slapping his forehead for his own slowness. Of course, Sherlock wanted to shower after a day like today. Hadn’t Greg been ready to murder someone to shower only 30 minutes ago? And Sherlock was much posher about stuff like that. His black shirt alone probably cost more than Greg’s entire wardrobe! 

Sherlock’s face softened with relief and Greg felt bad for his behavior earlier. He’d basically called dibs on the shower as soon as they’d arrived. Not even thinking about asking if Sherlock wanted to shower first. Instead, he’d snapped at him, irritated by something as silly as Sherlock’s phone usage. And he’d only used it to find them food. Greg bit his lip, suddenly disgusted with himself. This wasn’t how he normally acted, he was better than that. More considered and patient. He looked at Sherlock, letting out a sigh, promising himself again that he would do better. Sherlock frowned, taking a step closer as if he wanted to look inside Greg’s actual brain.

“Lestrade, you don’t-” 

“I’ll wait for you until you’re done. Then we can eat together.” Greg stated. Crossing his arms in front of him, ignoring his stomach as the smells in the air tried to seduce him. Even if he had to wait all night, he would. Sherlock deserved that, after all, he’d gone back out into that horrible weather to get them food. 

“You don’t have to do that, Lestrade. You’re clearly hungry.” Sherlock said, the frown disappearing for a moment, his mouth turning into a little smile when Greg’s stomach grumbled loudly. 

“Well, aren’t you?” Greg shot back, smirking when Sherlock’s cheeks turned pink. “We’ll eat together, okay? I can wait.” Greg patted his stomach, gesturing with his head to the bathroom. Sherlock didn’t move, his eyes going over Greg’s face and Greg saw a hint of surprise and confusion in Sherlock’s expression. Greg bit his lip, feeling overwhelmed and off-center by Sherlock’s focus on him. 

“Okay.” Sherlock finally spoke, slowly nodding his head, eyes still glued to Greg’s. “ But you should eat some soup. I don’t want to be responsible for you dying of hunger.” Sherlock smirked when Greg’s stomach made its presence known again and Greg nodded in agreement. Sherlock gave a firm nod, looking longingly at the food before turning and heading to the bathroom, stopping to pick up a bag Greg hadn’t really been paying attention too. 

“I- I’ll be quick. I have-” Sherlock stopped, biting his lip before shaking his head, clutching the bag against him and disappearing into the room.

_Fuck._ Greg breathed out, running a hand through his hair again. He kept his eyes on the closed bathroom door for a while after Sherlock had locked it. Greg’s heart dropped when he heard the water running and he pushed his nails inside his palms hard, willing himself to not think about a very naked and wet Sherlock Holmes, so close but out of reach. 

“Fuck.” 


	4. POV Sherlock: Bathroom

Sherlock breathed out a sigh of relief as he leaned against the closed door, clutching the bag in his hand. He heard Greg sit down on a chair, the rustle of some plastic and Sherlock could have sworn he heard Greg moan in delight. Something about tonight was different but he couldn’t figure out what. Sherlock frowned, letting out a deep sigh as he closed his eyes for a couple of seconds. It wasn’t the first time he’d be spending time with Lestrade at night but those times had always been at the Yard, focusing on cases and reading through sloppy and boring paperwork. It wasn’t anything like this, stuck in the same room together, having to share everything. Sherlock’s stomach contracted and he opened his eyes, pushing down his thoughts and doubts. Lestrade was waiting on him, clearly hungry and Sherlock stepped away from the door, placing the bag on the sink. 

_Are you going to give him that soon or are you waiting until tomorrow?_

Sherlock shook his head, his jaw clenched as he looked at the bag. He’d seen the curious expression on Lestrade’s face when he’d taken it off the ground but Sherlock didn’t have the courage yet to broach the subject. Maybe after dinner? Lestrade was always more mellow when he’d eaten. 

_Of course, Brother. Whatever you say._

“Shut up, Mycroft.” Sherlock whispered through his teeth before quickly undressing, tossing his dirty clothes on the floor and stepping inside the shower, ignoring his reflection in the mirror. It took a few seconds to find the right temperature for the water and Sherlock moaned in delight when the warm water ran over his hair and body. He took the first soap bottle he could find with his eyes half-closed, soaping himself up and scrubbing hard with the loofa. All the stress, sweat, and dirt of the day drained away and Sherlock was finally able to relax his body, rolling his shoulders and neck to loosen them more. 

He could have easily spend an hour in there, the water draining out all other noises, his nose filled with the fresh scent of lavender. But Lestrade was waiting, just on the other side of the wall. Knowing that made his stomach feel strange again and he couldn’t really blame it on being hungry. Sherlock washed the soap off his body, running his fingers through his wet curls and crunching up his nose. The night store didn’t have any of his usual products to keep his hair tame. The hotel shampoo would have to do, Lestrade could only laugh out loud when Sherlock emerged from the bathroom with his curls all over the place. 

Sherlock turned off the water once all the shampoo was out of his hair, letting it run down his body for a moment before reaching for the towel and wrapping it around himself. The bathroom was fogged up with steam when he stepped out of the shower and his body formed gooseflesh. The bag was waiting for him on the sink and Sherlock bit his lip, still not sure what to do. It was very unusual really, this self-doubt. Normally, he just decided on an action and stuck with it, seeing where the decision would take him and deal with the consequences when they came up. 

‘Why is this so different?’ Sherlock asked himself quietly, wiping the fog off the mirror with his hand. He looked at himself, pulling a face of displeasure when he noticed the state of his curls. They were already disobeying him and Sherlock pulled out the comb he’d bought, trying his best to control the damage. He gave up soon after, taking the blow dryer the hotel provided. The sound of the machine set his nerves on edge but he gritted his teeth, wanting to seem at least somewhat presentable. 

_“I doubt Lestrade will care, Brother Mine. Why are you so focused on your appearance?”_

“Shut up, Mycroft.” Sherlock grumbled as he stopped the machine and placed it back. He rubbed himself dry, his skin turning a light pink from the hardness of the towels. He reached for the bag of clothes he’d bought earlier, his body nearly humming with approval as he put on the clean clothes. The pajama was a little on the short side but he couldn’t be too picky in these circumstances. Just being able to wear clean clothes was enough to make him feel human again, less frazzled, and worried. He ran his fingers through his hair one last time, letting out a sigh of defeat before turning away from the mirror. 

_“He’s going to love it.”_

“Stop it.” Sherlock whispered, shaking his head as his heart skipped a beat. He knew people found him attractive, something about his cheekbones being sharp and his body being lanky and tall. Sherlock didn’t really get it, all he saw was a face out of proportion, eyes with too many colors in them, and a body that was too skinny and pale. The one thing he did like about himself was his hair. At least when it was tamed with his usual products. He should have gone to the barber before this case. His hair was too long now which made his curls too long and unruly. 

He snapped out of his thought when the bag of clothes fell down on the ground and Sherlock bit his lip again as he picked it up, clutching it in his hands. He still didn’t know how Lestrade would react but it felt wrong to not offer it to the man. Sherlock himself felt much better with the fresh pajamas, the hotel bathrobe completing the look rather nicely. Sherlock wiggled his unsocked toes, liking the feel of the cool tiles underneath his soles. He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he reached for the doorknob. This was it, no hiding away now.

_“You’re not going to let me eat alone, are you?”_

Sherlock’s heart skipped a beat at the memory, seeing the sadness in Lestrade’s eyes when he’d asked the question. It seemed like Lestrade was genuinely sad at the idea of Sherlock not dining with him and he hadn’t known what to say to that. It didn’t happen often that people wanted his company. Yes, there was the small problem of being snowed in and this town having only one hotel and that one hotel only having one room left but still. Lestrade really didn’t seem to mind spending so much time with Sherlock and Sherlock wasn’t sure how to deal with that fact. 

_You’re not the worst person in the world, Sherlock. Go on, don’t let the man wait._

“But I-” Sherlock stopped, biting his lip hard, closing his eyes to breath deeply in and out a few times. He saw his brother’s face, full of love and a hint of concern before he closed the door of the room. Sherlock’s fingers shook when he reached for the doorknob again, willing himself to unlock the door and step outside. It was his fault they were in this situation. Because of his stubbornness and not listening to his better judgment. None of this would be happening right now if Sherlock had done the smart thing, the logical thing. It was a miracle Lestrade wasn’t angrier with him. 

_“ He still wants to share dinner with you. What could that possibly mean, Brother Mine.”_

Sherlock closed his eyes again, turning the key in his Mind Palace two times, seeing the tiny smirk on his brother’s face before he opened his eyes again. It didn’t mean anything. Lestrade was just being his nice self. Sherlock had seen the flicker of guilt in the man’s eyes just before. Probably angry with himself that he’d lost his cool and snapped at Sherlock earlier. This was Lestrade’s way of apologizing. That was all, nothing more. 

Sherlock finally unlocked the door, the sound piercing through him like a bullet but he opened the door without hesitation, holding the bag tightly in his left hand, his mind made up. 

Lestrade had his way of saying sorry, Sherlock had his own way. And didn’t Lestrade deserve an apology after a day like this?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's the start of a new month so it's time for another chapter. 
> 
> What did you think of this chapter?


	5. POV Greg: Hotelroom

“There you are, I was beginning to think-” Greg stopped speaking, picking his mouth up from the floor as his eyes went over Sherlock’s frame and stopped at his hair. He flexed his hands, swallowing around a lump in his throat as Sherlock came closer, eyes fleetingly meeting Greg’s. 

“We- we should eat. Before the food gets too cold.” Sherlock responded, a slight stutter in his words that made Greg’s heart drop down to his stomach. He cleared his throat, suddenly feeling too hot and too cold all at once. He couldn’t stop looking at Sherlock’s hair, wanting to brush his fingers into the curls. It looked so fluffy and inviting, making Sherlock seem softer and younger. It took Greg’s breath away, seeing him like that and it took a couple of embarrassing seconds to get his brain to work again. He got up from the bed, setting the television to mute before gesturing at Sherlock to sit down on the chair. 

“Where are you going to sit?” Sherlock asked, frowning down at the chair. Greg noticed he was holding the plastic bag again, rather tightly judging by the color of Sherlock’s knuckles. Sherlock turned, tilting his head to the side, his curls following the movement, and Greg mentally kicked himself, grateful he was wearing the hotel bathrobe. 

“I can sit on the floor, I don’t mind.” Greg shrugged, taking a pillow of the bed and dropping it on the floor. Sherlock’s frown got a little deeper, looking from the pillow to the food and back. He shook his head, laying the bag on the ground before taking a few containers and carefully depositing them on the floor next to the pillow. 

“The floor is fine, Lestrade. Can you get me that other pillow?” 

“You really don’t-” Greg started, taking the second pillow of the bed and dropping it on the floor. Sherlock set up the rest of the food, squinting his eyes at Greg before elegantly sitting down and looking up at him. 

“You said you didn’t want to eat alone. This will be just fine.” 

“There’s a big change I won’t be able to get off this floor after we’ve eaten.” Greg mumbled, his knee protesting when he bend to sit down, giving Sherlock a stern look once he was settled against the bed, legs stretch out in front of him. 

“I didn’t say anything, Lestrade.” Sherlock commented, a slight twinkle in his eyes as he handed a container to Greg. A stray curl fell in front of his eyes and Greg had to force himself to take the food Sherlock had offered instead of brushing the curl behind Sherlock’s ear. 

_ Fucking hell, I’m in so much trouble.  _

Greg nodded in thanks, convinced Sherlock could read his mind but Sherlock didn’t say anything. Instead, he took another container, taking a deep whiff once he’d opened it op and Greg laughed when he heard Sherlock’s stomach grumbled. 

“I’m glad to know I’m not the only one with bodily needs. When was the last time you ate, Sherlock? You didn’t get a pasty at the bakery right?” Greg asked, taking a mouthful of delicious chicken, closing his eyes to savor the taste. When he opened them again, Sherlock was looking down at his food, chewing slowly, wiggling his toes. 

_ I’m going to die tonight. Fuck, he’s too adorable.  _ Greg mentally stopped himself, focusing on his chicken again, taking another bite before reaching out to take the bottle of lemonade. 

“Sherlock? You okay? I didn’t mean to- With the food thing, I didn’t-” Greg stopped himself by taking a large gulp of his beverage, feeling Sherlock's eyes on him as the man finally looked up. Sherlock shook his head, waving his plastic fork.

“I ate a banana when I woke up, so yes, it’s been a while.” Sherlock’s voice was cautious, taking another bite and chewing carefully. Greg bit his lip, feeling like a bastard. He knew Sherlock was weird about food, especially when they had a case. 

“It’s not your fault you know?” Greg said, handing Sherlock a slice of bread and holding out his container of chicken. “Want to try?” 

“Yes.” Sherlock took the food, placing his own box on the ground next to Greg. Sherlock sniffed it, a small smile on his lips as he took a fork full and ate it. “Delicious.” 

“Yeah, you found a great place, Sherlock. Just what I needed. What we both needed, really. After a day like today.” Greg sighed, rubbing his face before taking another box and taking a bite of the duck in orange sauce. 

“Fuck, that is amazing. Have you tried this?”

“Are you feeding me up, Lestrade?” Sherlock asked, a playful hint in his tone that made the butterflies in Greg’s body roar. He opened his mouth to speak, realizing he didn’t know what to say and closed it again, his cheeks burning up as Sherlock tilted his head slightly, squinting his eyes a bit. Greg looked down at the food, pricking another piece of duck on his fork. He leaned forward, holding the fork between them. Sherlock glanced at him, nibbling on his lip before closing the distance and taking the piece of the fork, his eyes staying on Greg for a couple of seconds as he chewed. 

“Good right?” Greg asked, his voice sounding rough to his own ears. He took his beverage, taking another large sip, feeling off-kilter. 

“It’s very good, Lestrade. You should eat more. There’s plenty left. Can you hand me one of those?” Sherlock asked, gesturing at the bottles near Greg’s side. Greg’s body suddenly woke up all over again as Sherlock took the bottle, their fingers brushing against each other. Sherlock nodded in thanks, Greg’s eyes drawn to Sherlock’s hair again. 

“I like your hair like this.” Greg said, stopping himself just in time before he reached out and touched it. Sherlock’s cheeks turned pink, blinking his eyes rapidly before focusing on the bottle in his hand. 

“I. I don’t have my usual products. It’s-” Sherlock whispered, biting his lip before drinking, not meeting Greg’s gaze as he started on his food again. 

Greg’s heart was hammering inside his chest, his body feeling constricted and on edge. Clearly he wasn’t able to have a normal conversation with Sherlock. The comment about his hair was too much and Greg felt a spark of guilt for making Sherlock feel uncomfortable. He continued to eat but somehow the food didn’t taste as good anymore. The silence hung between them, making Greg feel heavy and he sighed, placing the container down and pinching the bridge of his nose. 

When he looked back up, Sherlock was watching him. 

“I’m sorry, Sherlock.” 

“Sorry?” Sherlock asked, a frown forming between his brows as he placed his own box on the ground. Greg shifted on the floor, his bum starting to ache. 

“Yeah, I’m being a lousy dining partner. I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable but it’s all I’m able to do apparently.” 

“I’m not uncomfortable.” Sherlock responded, giving Greg a dead stare when he was about to protest. “I’m not the best at these sorts of things,” Sherlock said, gesturing between them, the blush on his cheeks deepening a shade. “But I can assure you that I’m having a nice time. All things considered.” Sherlock finished, a smile on his lips that seemed genuine to Greg. Then again, Greg wasn’t the best at reading Sherlock. 

“Besides, I’m the one who should apologize. If it hadn’t been for my stupid pride and stubbornness we would have been back in London a while ago and you wouldn’t be stuck with me.”

“I’m not  _ stuck  _ with you, Sherlock.” Greg said, his heart breaking a little when Sherlock huffed in disbelief. He moved, shuffling to Sherlock, placing his hand on Sherlock’s leg for a couple of seconds to get his attention. “Is this an ideal situation? No. But it’s not the worst case scenario either. We have a roof over our heads, a belly full of food and I, well, I don’t mind the company. Could you have stopped the sleuthing earlier? Yes, of course.” Greg said, a reassuring smile on his face when Sherlock started to pout. 

“But I also know a bit how you work and I know it would have nagged at you the entire time if you hadn’t followed every micro lead we had gotten today. So no, I don’t blame you and I’m not angry with you for getting us stuck here. The hotel is rather nice actually. That shower I took was amazing. Made me feel more human.” Greg smiled, reaching for his bottle of lemonade and holding it up in the air. 

“Let’s toast, on a good end of a not so good day.” 

“Cheers.” Sherlock replied, clinking his bottle to Greg’s before they both took a sip. “That shower was magical, indeed,” Sherlock spoke up after a moment, taking another piece of duck. The food was getting cold fast but somehow it still tasted amazing. Greg nodded, chewing on a large portion of rice and beef, patting his stomach when he was finished. Sherlock bit his lip, eyes going over to the bag on the floor. 

“I, uh,-” Sherlock started, getting on his knees to crawl towards the bag, sliding it closer and placing it on his lap once he was back on his pillow. Greg’s eyes stayed on the bag for a moment, his gaze curious as Sherlock fidgeted with the handles. 

“I. When I went for food, I also, I also bought this.” Sherlock breathed out, pushing the bag in Greg’s hands, placing his hands on his lap. “I figured you didn’t have another set of clothes and well- I- I think those will fit you. They aren’t the best quality of course but-”

“Sherlock.” Greg interrupted, opening the bag, needing a second to realize what he was seeing inside it. His gaze went back to Sherlock and he blamed it on his exhaustion that he only now noticed the pair of pajama bottoms, a few millimeters too short, and exposing Sherlock’s ankles. 

He took out the pair of pajamas, his stomach doing a flip when he noticed the fresh pair of underwear at the bottom of the bag. There was also a clean shirt, nothing too fancy but decent enough in their circumstances. Greg held up the pajamas, raising an eyebrow at Sherlock, seeing the color of his cheeks had turned red. 

“You don’t have to wear them. I know it’s a bit weird. A lot weird. I just thought- This was a bad idea.” Sherlock rambled, reaching for the clothes at lightning speed but Greg was faster, pulling them out of reach and clutching them to his chest. Sherlock frowned, displeasure in his eyes as he tried reaching for the garments again, Greg shaking his head and scrambling to stand up, using the bed as leverage. His right knee ached, his bum protesting from sitting on the floor for so long. Sherlock was still sitting down, staring at the now cold food. 

“Sherlock.” 

“Let’s not talk about it anymore.” Sherlock cut Greg off, standing up with a grace and effortlessness that made Greg a tad jealous. Sherlock bend down, collecting the empty boxes and bottles of the floor, dumping them all in the plastic bag that had held Greg’s clothes and trying to shove it in the tiny garbage bin. 

“Sherlock, that won’t-’

“Why is this so tiny? It’s a size fit for dwarfs, not people. How can I clean up if-” Sherlock dropped the back with a scowl on his face, looking at the bin as if it had personally offended him. 

“Sherlock, can you -?” 

“I’m tired Lestrade.” Sherlock interrupted, taking his pillow off the floor and walking to his side of the bed, still not looking at Greg. Greg sighed, placing the clothes down on the bed and walking over to Sherlock who was doing everything to not meet Greg’s gaze. 

“Sherlock, stop.” Greg said, placing both his hands on Sherlock’s shoulders, squeezing them when Sherlock’s eyes stayed on the floor. “Can you look at me? Please?” 

“What is it, Lestrade?” Sherlock asked, trying to act nonchalant but failing miserably. Greg squeezed his shoulders again before removing his hands, gesturing to the clothes on the bed. 

“That was really thoughtful of you, Sherlock. Thank you.” 

“I know it’s not normal but I just wanted to- Wait, what?” Sherlock did that blinking thing again, seemingly looking right through Greg before his mouth formed an O, meeting Greg’s eyes with a surprised expression. 

Greg nodded, his smile growing wider as he saw Sherlock relax, shoulders dropping down, the frown disappearing on his face. 

“You-You’re not mad?” 

There was still a hint of disbelief in his voice that made Greg’s heart crack a little. Greg sat down on the bed, patting the spot next to him. He smiled again when Sherlock sat down, fidgeting with the sash of his dressing gown. 

“I’m not mad, Sherlock. I’m actually very grateful. A fresh pair of pajamas is exactly what I need to make this night even better.” Greg nodded, reaching for the garment in question and placing it on his lap. 

“It’s not the best quality as I said. There was only one shop open at this time of night.” Sherlock said, his voice soft, eyes staying on the pajamas.

“It’s perfect for tonight, Sherlock. Thank you.” Greg placed his hand on Sherlock’s knee for a moment, squeezing it once before removing it and getting up from the bed. “I’m going to go change into them right now. They do look to be my size. How did you-”

“As you may know, I’m a very good observer,” Sherlock responded, a glint in his eyes. Greg lowered the clothes in his hands, his stomach doing a flip because of Sherlock’s statement. His eyes went to the underwear, his neck feeling uncomfortably warm all of a sudden. Sherlock’s smile faded away, his knee bouncing as he cleared his throat, waving a hand towards Greg. 

“Are you going to keep standing there?”

“I. No, I’ll just- Be right back.” Greg coughed, pressing the bundle of clothes to his chest and making his way to the bathroom. He heard Sherlock move behind him, a rustle of fabric that made his heart stopped for a second. 

_ God. _ This was going to be a long night. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this longer chapter.


	6. POV Sherlock: During/after Greg changes.

Sherlock watched the door of the bathroom for a moment, his heart still beating too fast. He shifted on the bed, trying to find a good way to lay down. Only when he was in bed did he realize how stiff and aching his body was and he nearly melted into the mattress, letting out a sigh of contentment. The glow from the television caught his attention and he blinked his eyes, suppressing a yawn. He’d wanted to go over the case inside his head but for some reason, he was having trouble. His eyes drifted from the television to the closed bathroom door. 

_ Told you he would like it.  _

Sherlock closed his eyes, mentally trying to shove his brother back inside his room. The smug look on Mycroft’s face made Sherlock’s stomach do a flip and he opened his eyes, sitting up and shaking his head. He turned up the sound of the TV ever so slightly, letting the chatter calm some of his nerves down. Lestrade was taking a long time in there, maybe the clothes didn’t fit after all? 

Sherlock wrung his hands, eyes focusing on the door again, even squinting as if he was able to see behind it. Maybe the underwear had been a tad too much? He’d seen Lestrade’s expression when he’d found the pair at the bottom of the bag and Sherlock’s stomach lunged when he thought about it. Lestrade was too kind a person to say anything but maybe-

Sherlock shook his head again, pinching the bridge of his nose before focusing his eyes on the television. The show was some sort of detective series, an older woman solving crimes in the most beautiful places in Northumberland. It only took Sherlock 5 seconds to figure out who’d killed the betting shop magnate but the show wasn’t as bad as the crap he’d seen before. 

In fact, Sherlock was so caught up in watching the rest of the show that he didn’t hear Greg come back into the room. 

“Ah, Vera. Love that show. Didn’t know you were a fan of crime dramas.” 

Sherlock startled, letting out an embarrassing sound as he placed his hand on his chest. Lestrade grinned, stepping towards the bed. 

“The clothes fit perfectly.” Lestrade said, sticking his arms out for Sherlock to watch him. Something inside Sherlock’s brain turned off, his eyes going over Lestrade’s frame. The pajama fitted him like a glove and Sherlock nearly died when Lestrade did a turn, giving him a view of his perfect arse. 

“Th-that’s good. I’m- I’m glad they fit you.” Sherlock stuttered, his cheeks feeling warm as Lestrade smiled at him, stepping to his side of the bed and pulling the covers up. Sherlock's heart skipped a beat or two as Lestrade slid in next to him, shifting to get comfortable. 

“At least the mattress isn’t too firm, I hate a firm mattress.” Greg said, placing his hands on top of the sheets. Sherlock's senses went into overdrive. He was very aware of Lestrade being this close to him, he felt the warmth of his body, the tiny changes in the mattress when he shifted. He smelled the soap and shampoo Lestrade has used earlier, mixed with a fragment of the food they’d just shared. It was somehow too much and not enough and Sherlock fidgeted with his hands, wanting something to hold. 

“You okay, Sherlock?” 

Sherlock snapped his eyes open, not realizing he’d closed them again and turned to meet Lestrade’s expression. The hint of worry in Lestrade’s eyes made Sherlock's stomach do a dip and he nodded, licking his dry lips. 

“I’m f-fine. Just getting tired, I guess.” 

“Do you even sleep?” Lestrade’s smile was wide and bright and Sherlock rolled his eyes, delighted when he heard Lestrade's laugh. 

“No, no, it’s a serious question, Sherlock. Some people at the Yard claim you’re a vampire.” 

“I’m sorry, what?” Sherlock blinked, looking at Lestrade with confusion.

“Can’t blame them.” Lestrade replied, eyes on the tv before continuing. “ You’re almost always pale, you hardly eat while on a case, your social skills need some work and you have that strange, alien beauty thing going for you.” 

“Alien beauty thing?” Sherlock muttered, his frown going deeper when Lestrade met his gaze, nodding at him firmly. “I don’t understand. People think I’m an alien?” 

“No, people think you’re a vampire. They just also think that you’re attractive in a weird way.” Lestrade shrugged a shoulder as if he’d just said something totally normal. Sherlock’s frown got deeper, resisting the urge to get up and look into the bathroom mirror. 

“How am I attractive?” Sherlock asked before he’d thought about it, biting his lip when Lestrade met his eyes, disbelief clear in his expression. “I don’t- I don’t see it, Lestrade.” 

“You don’t?” Lestrade asked, huffing when Sherlock shook his head, the back of his neck feeling warm. “Of course you don’t. I thought you were a genius, Sherlock. That you know everything about everyone.” 

“That’s not how it works.” Sherlock grumbled, crossing his arms in front of him as he fixed his eyes on the Tv in front of them. This whole conversation was ridiculous! As if anyone would find Sherlock attractive. 

“I’m not a vampire.” 

“Yes, I know.” Lestrade giggled causing Sherlock’s heart to leap. He stubbornly refused to look at Lestrade, his neck still feeling warm, his hands feeling sweaty. How was he supposed to go back to the Yard now? Knowing people found him attractive, at least in an alien-like way, whatever that meant. 

“I liked the other bloke better.” Lestrade said, making Sherlock look at him for a second. “On the show, I liked the other DS better. What’s his name again? Joe? Yeah, Joe Ashworth.” 

“I don’t know who that is.” 

“Course you don’t. You don’t watch a lot of television, right?” 

“I find it a waste of time.” Sherlock replied, shrugging a shoulder when Lestrade huffed. “Why don’t you like the Aiden character?” 

“It’s not that I don’t like him. I just liked watching Joe.” Lestrade turned his head, grinning when Sherlock met his eyes, butterflies bounced inside Sherlock’s stomach when Lestrade winked at him. “He was easy on the eyes.” 

“Oh. I didn’t know you-” Sherlock stopped, biting his lip. Lestrade’s sexual orientation wasn’t any of his business. He shifted in bed, taking his phone off the nightstand to check the time, close to midnight. He hesitated for a second, then turned off his phone completely and placed it back down. For some reason, he didn’t want to be disturbed by the real world. Being here, in this hotel and this bed, Lestrade right next to him in bed, it felt nice and somehow significant. 

Sherlock bit his lip harder, shaking his head ever so slightly. 

_ “Don’t be a fool!” _

“You okay?” Lestrade asked, a hint of insecurity in his eyes. “Do you want me to sleep on the floor or something?” 

“What?” Sherlock asked, shaking his head frantically when it clicked into place. “Don’t be silly, Lestrade. I’m not uncomfortable with you being attracted to men. I understand perfectly well.” Sherlock kept his eyes on Lestrade, seeing when it clicked into place in Lestrade’s brain, his eyes going wider, his mouth falling open. 

“Wait. What?!” Lestrade spoke louder than usual, Sherlock flinching just a tad. Lestrade’s face twisted, holding his hands up for a moment. “Sorry, I just- wasn’t expecting that.” 

“Why?” 

“You just never talk about stuff like that. Donovan started a- nevermind.” Lestrade’s face was flushed, keeping his eyes on the television for a few moments before sighing out loud and turning to face Sherlock. 

“It’s fine, you know. I won’t tell anyone at the Yard if you don’t want them to know.

“I don’t care what people think of me Lestrade. They already think I’m a freak.” 

“Sherlock-” Lestrade started, startling Sherlock by placing his hand on Sherlock’s thigh. The layers of fabric didn’t stop Sherlock from feeling Lestrade’s warmth on his skin. He swallowed, licking his dry lips, suddenly out of breath by Lestrade’s intense stare. “You’re not a freak. Don’t believe it for a second.” 

“Not a freak, only a vampire with the beauty of an alien.” Sherlock replied, his voice sounding off. Lestrade raised his eyebrows before laughing, the sound bouncing off the walls and warming up Sherlock’s body. Lestrade's hand was still on his thigh and it was all he could focus on. 

“Not exactly how I said it.” Lestrade smiled, his eyes going over Sherlock’s face for too long. Sherlock licked his lips again, heart stopping when Lestrade’s gaze stayed on them, the pressure on his thigh tightened

“I- I’m pretty sure you called me an alien not 10 minutes ago.” Sherlock whispered, his neck and cheeks flaming up. 

“No. I said you were attractive in an alien way. As in, so beautiful you must be out of this world.” 

“I-” Sherlock’s brain stopped working, looking at Lestrade with confusion and a hint of fear. Lestrade squeezed his thigh, leaning forward, his eyes going from Sherlock’s to Sherlock’s mouth. 

“Tell me I’m not reading this wrong.” Lestrade whispered, moving his other hand up, hesitating just a second before cupping Sherlock’s cheek. 

“I- You- Lestrade.” Sherlock blinked, lost for words, his heart beating a mile a minute, his stomach doing somersaults as Lestrade’s thumb brushed over his cheek. His eyelids fluttered closed, leaning into the touch, letting out a soft sigh, flinching ever so slightly when Lestrade let out a curse. He opened his eyes, blinking them fast to have a clear view. 

“Can I kiss you? I need you to answer, Sunshine.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed and I'll see you with the next update on August 1ste.


	7. POV Greg: first kiss

Greg’s heart just stopped working as he looked into Sherlock’s eyes. He was still moving his thumb over Sherlock’s cheek, nearly drowning in Sherlock’s gaze as he waited. Sherlock let out a breath, blinking his eyes rapidly, slightly shaking his head and Greg’s heart dropped down to his stomach, disappointment crashing over him. 

_ Of course he doesn’t want you to kiss him, idiot!  _

Greg swallowed, slowly removing his hand from Sherlock’s cheek, letting his eyes drift off and settle on the television that was still playing. What the hell had he been thinking?! He swallowed again, clearing his throat, ready to move out of bed when Sherlock’s fingers wrapped around his wrist, pulling him back. 

“Where are you going?” Sherlock asked, a frown settling between his eyes. 

“Listen, I know I’ve made it awkward just now so I’m just going to-” Greg stopped, not even sure what he was going to do. It wasn’t like he was able to leave and get a new room, the hotel was full, this was their only option. He sighed, pulling his wrist free and running a hand through his hair before rubbing his face. He forced himself to turn his body and look at Sherlock, trying and failing to give a reassuring smile. 

“It was a stupid thing to ask. Please just, just forget I asked. I hope we can still-”

“Greg. What are you- Don’t you want to kiss me?” Sherlock interrupted, biting his lower lip, a gleam of disappointment in his eyes. He fidgeted with his hands, half reaching out for Greg again but stopping midway. 

“Guess it’s only logical,” Sherlock whispered, more to himself than Greg and the sadness in his voice made Greg reach out and take Sherlock’s hand in his, again cupping Sherlock’s face. 

“No. Don’t say that. I asked you if I could kiss you, Sherlock. Just now, not 5 seconds ago. You shook your head-”

“That wasn’t because I didn’t want you to kiss me!” Sherlock blurted out, his cheeks turning a nice pink as he closed his eyes and leaned into Greg’s touch, squeezing Greg’s fingers. 

“You-” Greg started, stopping himself when he realized what Sherlock had said. Sherlock’s eyes opened, a shyness in them Greg had never seen before and he reacted, moving his hand from Sherlock’s cheek to his neck, pulling him closer and letting out a wanton sound when their lips met. 

He felt Sherlock stiffen for a moment than relax, his body melting against Greg as he opened his mouth to let Greg in. The moan Sherlock gave sent a shiver down Greg’s spine, wanting to consume him. 

“Greg.” Sherlock whispered when Greg pulled back, rubbing his nose against Sherlock’s. He smiled, running his fingers through Sherlock's curls, pulling one softly and his heart nearly exploded when Sherlock moaned again, exposing his long, pale neck. 

“Fucking hell.” Greg breathed out, locking his lips on the delicate skin, sucking hard before cooling the spot down with a flick of his tongue. Sherlock’s hands found there way to Greg’s body, his nails digging into Greg’s shoulders as Greg blew air on the red skin. 

“I. Greg, I-” Sherlock bit his lip, his eyes wide and unfocused and Greg captured his mouth again, fingers tangled in Sherlock’s curls. Sherlock’s hands slid down Greg’s back, going underneath the pajama top and Greg cursed softly when he felt Sherlock’s warm hands on his skin. 

He moved, pushing Sherlock down on the mattress, his mouth going down to Sherlock’s neck again, making a path to his collarbone. Sherlock arched his back, letting out the most beautiful sounds, his nails scratching lightly on Greg’s back. 

“Yes.” Greg whispered against Sherlock’s skin, looking up to see Sherlock’s face. He was breathtaking and Greg brushed away a stray curl before he moved to the front of Sherlock’s pajamas, opening the first few buttons. 

“Greg, I’m not-” Sherlock started, letting out a grunt when Greg licked Sherlock’s right nipple, sliding his hand down Sherlock’s side. 

“You’re gorgeous,” Greg whispered, opening up more buttons, kissing the exposed skin. He sat up when the last button was open, sliding the shirt out of the way. Sherlock was biting his lip, not meeting Greg’s gaze, placing an arm over his eyes. 

“Hey, look at me. Come on, Sunshine.” 

Sherlock let out a deep breath before removing his arm and meeting Greg’s gaze, a sliver of defiance in them. Greg smiled, leaning down to place a light kiss on the corner of Sherlock’s mouth. 

“Everything okay? You know we can stop at any time right?” 

Sherlock nodded, sitting up and leaning back against the headboard, covering his torso up with his shirt. 

“I’m not- You don’t have to-” Sherlock frowned, moving to the side to try to reach the switch of the bedside lamp. Greg followed, taking Sherlock’s wrist and pulling him back, ignoring Sherlock’s irritated sigh. 

“Don’t, please. I want to see you.” Greg closed the distance, giving Sherlock a fierce kiss. Sherlock blinked his eyes rapidly when Greg pulled back, still holding Sherlock’s hand, brushing lightly over the knuckles with his thumb. 

“But Lestrade-”

“You’re gorgeous. If we- if we are going to do this, I want to see you.” Greg placed a kiss on Sherlock’s knuckles, keeping his eyes on him. “Look at me, Sherlock. Really look at me.” Sherlock rolled his eyes but did as Greg said, watching every inch of Greg’s face. Sherlock’s eyes widened in surprise and it nearly broke Greg’s heart. He nodded when Sherlock opened his mouth to say something, bringing them together for a deep kiss that made Sherlock moan. 

“I want to see you, Sunshine. Naked and wanting underneath me.” 

“Greg.” Sherlock’s voice sounded rough, a little breathless and Greg grinned, placing his hands on Sherlock’s shoulders before taking the shirt and sliding it off him. Sherlock’s nipples turned hard and Greg leaned down, taking one of them in his mouth and sucking it. Sherlock hissed, one hand grabbing hold of Greg’s head. Greg smiled, moving to the other nipple, doing just the same thing until Sherlock was breathing deeply. 

“You’re gorgeous, Sunshine.” Greg whispered against Sherlock’s skin, gently pushing him down and straddling Sherlock’s legs. He ran his hands down Sherlock’s chest, his mouth following until he reached Sherlock’s belly button. Sherlock wriggled when Greg licked and Greg giggled, going back up to kiss Sherlock. 

“So, what do you want to do?” 

“I don’t know? I never- I mean-” Sherlock’s cheeks turned a deep red as he bit his lower lip. He let out a breathe, moving up, resting on his elbows. “I’ve never really  _ done  _ any of this.”

“You’re a virgin?” Greg’s eyes went wide when Sherlock nodded, his gaze drifting off to the right. Greg snapped out of his surprise, running his fingers through Sherlock’s curls, heart leaping when Sherlock closed his eyes, melting into the caress. He was so responsive, so trusting, something swelled inside Greg’s body, a spark of desire that made his cock throb and Sherlock’s eyes flew open, staring at Greg’s crotch. 

“You’re aroused by that fact? Why?” Sherlock shifted, sitting upright, placing his hands on Greg’s thighs as he looked at him with curiosity. Greg shrugged a shoulder, touching Sherlock’s face, running his hand down to Sherlock’s neck and leaning forward. Sherlock shivered when Greg licked his lower lip, ending with a quick, shallow nip. 

“Being the first to see you like this, to touch you like this, it’s- it’s bloody brilliant,” Greg whispered, lightly pulling Sherlock's hair as they kissed, swallowing up the tiny gasps and moans he pulled out of Sherlock. He hissed when Sherlock’s hands went under his shirt again, teasing Greg’s nipples and Greg let out a breathless laugh when Sherlock pulled back, question in his eyes. 

“Do that again, Sunshine.” Greg captured Sherlock's mouth, his cock throbbing as Sherlock's fingers went over his skin, making Greg moan when he pinched them. 

“Lestrade.” 

“No.” Greg pulled back, his thumb over Sherlock’s mouth. “Not Lestrade. Not now. Not tonight. Say my name.” 

“G-Greg.” Sherlock whispered when Greg removed his fingers, the blush on his cheeks warm as Greg caressed Sherlock’s face. Greg hummed in approval, forcing himself to remove his hands and open up his own pajama shirt. Sherlock’s gaze felt like a caress, Greg could almost feel it when Sherlock’s eyes traveled down his torso, taking in every inch. He let out a breath when he dropped the shirt on the floor together with Sherlock’s, giving Sherlock time to watch him. It felt weird but not unpleasant and he couldn’t stop himself from sucking in his stomach every so slightly. 

“Oi!” Greg called out when Sherlock moved, turning them around and pushing Greg against the mattress, sitting down on Greg’s thighs. Sherlock’s eyes were wide and shining, a tad unfocused and it made Greg’s skin burn, being Sherlock’s full focus. Sherlock’s fingers trembled ever so lightly when they went over Greg’s body, looking down at Greg before leaning down, placing kisses where his hands had been. 

“Oh.” Greg breathed out, hands finding their way to Sherlock’s arse, gripping him firmly and smiling when Sherlock looked up through his lashes. Sherlock’s curls were tickling Greg’s skin and Greg squeezed Sherlock’s arse as he licked and sucked at Greg’s nipples. 

“Fascinating.” Sherlock whispered, his face hovering above Greg’s. Greg was just about to ask what was so fascinating when Sherlock moved his hips, their dicks sliding against each other. 

“Fuck!” Greg cursed, nails digging into Sherlock’s arse to feel the same sensation. Sherlock giggled softly in his ear, moving with Greg, licking Greg’s earlobe before finding his mouth and kissing him deeply. 

“Thought- though you said you hadn’t done anything like this before.” Greg panted when Sherlock pulled back, his mouth red and shining. There was a shyness in Sherlock's eyes that made Greg want to take him right then, instead, he flipped them around, pinning Sherlock down with his body, hands moving restlessly over his chest and stomach. 

“I- I’m a fast learner.” Sherlock lisped, nearly making Greg forget how to breathe. Greg groaned, slamming their mouths together, moving his lower body against Sherlock’s as Sherlock melted into it, his hands running down Greg’s back, resting above his arse. 

“God, you’re incredible.” Greg breathed out, licking Sherlock's lips as he ran his hand down to Sherlock’s groin. Sherlock arched his back, looking at Greg with a dazzled expression and Greg grinned, palming Sherlock’s dick. 

“Oh, Greg, Greg that’s-” Sherlock moaned loudly, biting his lip hard and Greg slid his hand down Sherlock’s pants, needing to feel him, needing to hear those sounds again. Sherlock arched into it, moaning deeply, fingers clutching at the bedsheets. Sweat was forming on his forehead, his cheeks a nice red, his eyes shining like a diamond when he looked up at Greg. 

“Greg, please.” 

“Anything you want, Sweetheart.” Greg mumbled against Sherlock's skin, kissing his heated cheeks, nibbling at his collarbone as he stroked Sherlock’s dick. 

“More.” Sherlock opened his eyes, trying to take off his pants. Greg took Sherlock’s hands, ignoring the sound of protest as he placed them next to Sherlock’s body and shifted, taking the pants and pulling them down. Sherlock’s cock sprang free and Greg swallowed, wanting to choke on it. 

“Y- you too.” 

Greg met Sherlock’s eyes, Sherlock batting his lashes shyly and Greg made quick work of removing the rest of his clothes, dumping it all on the floor. He sat himself over Sherlock’s legs, his body feeling jittery when he slid his hands over Sherlock’s thighs, waiting until Sherlock looked at him. 

“What do you want?” 

“A-Anything.” Sherlock reached out and Greg took Sherlock’s hand, interlacing their fingers before leaning forward and capturing him in a kiss. He felt Sherlock’s dick twitch against his stomach and Greg pulled away, leaving a trail of kisses over Sherlock’s torso and stomach. 

“Oh.” 

“I need you to tell me when it’s not comfortable anymore.” Greg said, squeezing Sherlock’s hand when Sherlock let out a huff. “I’m serious, Sunshine. This is important to me, I want to do right by you.” Greg smiled, placing a kiss on Sherlock’s stomach. Sherlock nodded and then nodded again when Greg raised an eyebrow. 

“Don’t stop, Greg. K-kiss me.” Sherlock whispered and Greg moaned, leaning forward to do just as Sherlock said. He took his time, exploring Sherlock’s mouth thoroughly, pressing his body against Sherlock’s, fingers running along Sherlock’s sides, making Sherlock squirm just a little, a giggle on his lips when Greg broke the kiss. 

“You’re gorgeous.” Greg breathed out, tracing patterns on Sherlock’s stomach, running his fingers through Sherlock’s pubic hair before taking his dick and moving. Sherlock arched his back, fingers clinging to Greg’s shoulders, his eyes wide and unfocused. 

Greg stroked lazily, his eyes on Sherlock’s face the entire time. It was breathtaking, Sherlock lying underneath him, spreading his legs wider, body melting as Greg pumped his dick. He licked his lips, breathing hot air over Sherlock’s erection and smirked when Sherlock cursed, nails digging into Greg’s shoulder. 

“Language, Sunshine.” 

“Greg!” Sherlock moved, trying to get more friction and Greg licked at the tip of Sherlock’s cockhead, Sherlock’s mouth falling open in a soundless scream. 

“That’s it, perfect.” Greg went down, pinching one of Sherlock’s nipples with his free hand before settling between Sherlock’s legs, taking Sherlock’s cock and waiting. Sherlock blinked rapidly, his chest going up and down. He wiped away a stray curl, his cheeks flushed, biting his bottom lip and Greg growled, needing to stroke his own cock to release some of the urgency. 

“Greg.” Sherlock breathed out, eyes going from Greg’s face to his dick, mouth falling open. Greg stroked again, squeezing Sherlock’s dick and licking his lips. 

“This is all because of you, Sunshine. You’re so damn sweet.” Greg breathed out, fingers trembling as he released himself, stroking Sherlock’s thigh before placing a kiss on the inside. 

“Greg, please.” Sherlock opened his legs more, bucking up and Greg took it as the invitation it was meant to be. He wrapped his lips around Sherlock’s cock, feeling it twitch and expand in his mouth as his tongue licked at the veins. Sherlock’s thighs quivered when Greg hollowed his cheeks and started moving his head up and down, his other hand playing with Sherlock’s balls. Sherlock panted above him, hands reaching Greg’s head, adding pressure and Greg smiled, taking Sherlock deeper. 

“G-Greg! Oh, god!” Sherlock cried out, holding Greg’s head in place and Greg breathed through his nose, wanting to make Sherlock come down his throat. Sherlock mumbled, fingers scraping Greg’s skull and Greg moaned around Sherlock’s dick, grabbing Sherlock’s arse. 

“I-Greg, I-” Sherlock pulled his hair, trying to move but Greg dug his nails in, bobbing up and down, feeling tears run down his cheeks. Sherlock pulled his hair again and then Sherlock wailed, shooting his load right in Greg’s throat. Greg swallowed, trying to take as much as he could, his jaw starting to ache. He milked out every last bit before he pulled off slowly, suckling on Sherlock’s cockhead for a few seconds until Sherlock squirmed. 

“Greg.” 

“Yeah, Sunshine?” Greg asked, his voice hoarse. He rubbed the tears away, pride swelling inside him as he took in Sherlock before him. He was loose-limbed and spent, his eyes shining and unfocused. His lips were bright red, his hair and chest sweaty and Greg had never seen anything more beautiful. 

“Come here.” Sherlock whispered, reaching out and Greg did as he was told, laying next to Sherlock, smiling when Sherlock wrapped around him like an octopus, letting out a content sigh before kissing Greg. 

“You taste different.” Sherlock pulled back, licking his teeth, kissing Greg again and Greg giggled when Sherlock pulled back. 

“I probably taste like you. You did just spill your load down my throat.” 

Greg laughed when Sherlock went beet red, putting his hands on his face. Greg shook his head, taking Sherlock’s hands in his, smiling fondly at him when Sherlock scowled. 

“You are adorable.” Greg said, kissing Sherlock’s knuckles before releasing one hand and cupping Sherlock’s cheek, stroking the heated flesh with his thumb. “I had no idea.” Greg mumbled, looking into Sherlock’s eyes, seeing the vulnerability there. Somehow he’d always known Sherlock wasn’t as tough and untouchable as he appeared but being able to see it now…. 

Greg leaned forward, crushing Sherlock’s mouth against his, hearing Sherlock’s deep moan as their tongues twisted and turned. Sherlock pulled a leg around Greg, pressing him closer, letting out a soft ‘oh’ sound when he felt Greg’s erection. 

“Do- Do you want me to reciprocate?” Sherlock didn’t look at Greg’s face, his gaze focused on Greg’s dick and Greg’s dick was very on board with that idea. Sherlock bit his lip, his fingers sliding down Greg’s side, tapping on his skin as if he was playing the piano. 

“Do you want to reciprocate? Have you ever giving someone a blowjob before?” Greg asked, taking Sherlock’s chin and forcing Sherlock to look at him. Greg knew the answer before Sherlock even shook his head and he let out a breath, shifting in bed. 

“Than no, I’m good.” 

“But Lestrade-” 

“No.” Greg pressed his finger on Sherlock’s lips, trying for a stern look. “Not Lestrade. Not here, not now. Only Greg.” 

“Greg, I know I won’t be any good but I can-” Sherlock swatted Greg’s hand away, sitting upright in bed, using his hands to support his words. “I can at least try and you can tell me what you like. I’m a fast learner, Lestr- Greg. I know I can make you satisfied.” 

“Sherlock!” Greg stopped Sherlock with a kiss, twisting his fingers in Sherlock’s hair to add more pressure, kissing Sherlock until he relaxed in Greg’s hold, melting against his body. 

“I have no doubt you’d be able to satisfy me, Sherlock. I already am. Being able to lay here with you, to taste you, and hear you moan and beg when you come. My god, it’s more than I’d ever hoped for.” Greg breathed out, pulling playfully on Sherlock’s curls before rubbing their noses together. 

“I could lay here with you in this bed for the rest of eternity and be the happiest bloke in the world. Please, don’t feel like you have to do anything to make me happy. I’m more than okay with what we shared already.” 

“But you’re aroused!” Sherlock called out, waving a hand at Greg’s half-hard cock. 

“Course I am. I’m in bed with the most brilliant, most wonderful, and sexy bloke I know. You can’t fault me for being turned on, Sherlock.” 

“But then why- don’t you- I mean-” Sherlock stopped, looking down at his lap. 

“Hey,” Greg stroked Sherlock’s thigh, patting it twice and smiling when Sherlock met his gaze. “ This is not me not wanting you. I just don’t want you to do something that you are uncomfortable with.” 

“I’m not uncomfortable.” 

“Maybe I am?” Greg said, stroking Sherlock’s thigh. 

“I. I don’t understand.” 

“This,” Greg gestured between them, “ it has to be enjoyable and fun for both of us, Sunshine. If you aren’t ready to give me a blowjob then I respect that. There’s plenty more we can do.” 

“Sunshine.” 

“What?” Greg stroked Sherlock’s side, a little distracted by his wonderful skin. When he looked up into Sherlock’s eyes, Sherlock was smiling fondly, something Greg hadn’t seen before. It instantly turned his heart into jelly. 

“You’re the only one to call me a nickname that isn’t meant to mock me.” Sherlock kissed Greg deeply as if trying to convey every speck of emotion he was feeling. It left Greg breathless and horny as hell, gently rubbing against Sherlock’s leg. 

“Can I touch you?” Sherlock asked, a hint of pink in his cheeks. 

“C-course.” Greg stuttered, laying down as Sherlock moved to sit up, straddling Greg’s knees. Greg let out a breath as Sherlock’s hands slid down his chest and stomach, running his fingertips through Greg’s body hair. 

“You are beautiful.” Sherlock stated it like a fact, raising an eyebrow when Greg huffed. “Why is that so difficult for you to believe?” Sherlock asked, tilting his head and squinting his eyes. He didn’t stop touching Greg, even leaning down to place feather-light kisses on Greg’s stomach, smiling when Greg squirmed. 

“You’re ticklish. I didn’t know.” 

“Don’t you dare.” Greg said, taking hold of Sherlock’s hands. Sherlock giggled, trying to break free and tickle Greg’s sides. “You menace,” Greg growled, kissing Sherlock until he moaned, and only then did Greg release him, giving a light slap on Sherlock’s arse. 

“You  _ are  _ beautiful, Greg.” Sherlock said again, keeping his eyes on Greg for what felt like an hour. Greg’s cheeks turned warm, wanting to cover his face and sink inside the mattress. How was it possible that someone like Sherlock Holmes could find him beautiful? Wasn’t he just an ordinary copper? Getting gray and chubby far too fast. 

“No.” Sherlock shook his head, taking Greg’s face between his hands, shaking his head again. “Don’t think that.” 

“How can you possibly!?” 

“You’re an open book, Greg. At least to me.” Sherlock smiled, licking Greg’s lips before nibbling at the bottom one and going down to Greg’s neck, licking and sucking what felt like every inch. By the time Sherlock’s fingers wrapped around Greg’s cock, Greg was ready to explode. He could hardly think, was only able to respond to Sherlock’s caresses. He bucked his body up, needing more friction, moaning when he met Sherlock’s eyes and saw the desire in them. 

“I want to make you come, Greg. I want to taste it.” 

“Sh-Sherlock!” Greg panted, Sherlock working him like a violin, somehow just knowing when to speed up or slow down or add more pressure. It was the best handjob Greg had ever had and he gripped the sheets as Sherlock leaned down, his breath ghosting over Greg’s dick. 

“Come for me.” 

Maybe it should have been embarrassing or concerning, the way Greg just came when Sherlock said it. Greg found he couldn’t really care, his cum landing on Sherlock’s pretty face, Sherlock stroking him through the aftershocks, his fingers of his free hand sliding over his stomach and thighs. 

“Sh- Fuck.” Greg breathed out, his body completely spent as Sherlock wiped off a bit of cum and brought it to his lips, licking it off slowly for Greg to see. 

“You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?” 

Sherlock just sucked his finger in response and Greg growled, reaching for Sherlock to kiss him. Sherlock smiled into the kiss, relaxing his body on top of Greg’s. 

“We need to clean up, Love. It’s going to get uncomfortable soon.” 

“I never want to move.” 


	8. POV Sherlock:Aftermath

“Hmm, don’t leave.” Sherlock mumbled as Greg shifted underneath him. He pressed himself tighter against Greg, ignoring the beginning sticky feeling between them. Greg chuckled next to his ear, running his fingers through Sherlock’s curls. 

“You’re impossible.” 

“You’re the one that’s moving, Lestrade.” Sherlock grumbled, pouting when Greg untangled himself and went off the bed. Sherlock’s skin formed goosebumps as Greg walked towards the bathroom, Sherlock opening his eyes to watch him walk away. A blush rose up his cheeks as he looked at Greg’s arse, wanting to touch it badly. He moved up, his body feeling relaxed and loose. He couldn’t even remember when he’d felt this content, this… Peaceful. 

“Time to clean you up, Sunshine.” Greg smiled when he climbed un the bed, a damp washcloth in his hand. Sherlock reached out for it but Greg shook his head, cupping one side of sherlock’s face, holding the cloth up. 

“Close your eyes.” 

Sherlock did instantly, exhaling when Greg dragged the cloth over his face carefully, removing the evidence of their lovemaking. 

_ Lovemaking, really? _

Sherlock twisted his fingers, ignoring his brother’s smug face.

“There, that’s better right?” Greg asked, running his thumb over Sherlock’s cheek, placing a light kiss on the corner of his mouth when Sherlock nodded. 

“Be right back.” 

Sherlock bit his lip, his eyes drifting to Greg’s arse again when he went to the bathroom. He emerged back in a few seconds, a smile on his mouth when their eyes met and Sherlock felt his cheeks turn warm. His heart skipped a beat when Greg returned back to bed, laying himself next to Sherlock, their bodies touching as if they’d slept together for years and years. Greg struggled with the sheets, trying to cover them up and Sherlock breathed out, laying his head on Greg’s shoulder, his fingers tracing patterns on the skin he could reach. 

“Everything okay?” Greg asked after a while and Sherlock shifted, moving up so he could look at Greg’s face. There was worry in his eyes and Sherlock frowned, squinting his eyes as he leaned closer. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Sherlock asked, tilting his head, still trying to deduce Greg’s mind. 

“Like what, Love?” Greg asked, taking Sherlock’s hand and interlacing their fingers. Sherlock looked down, mouth slightly open and Greg squeezed. “This okay?” 

“Y-yes?” 

“Sherlock-” 

“It’s fine. I just- I just didn’t think.” Sherlock stopped, looking down at their joined hands. 

“You’re getting me a tad worried, Sunshine.” 

Sherlock shifted, leaning into Greg’s side and Greg wrapped an arm around Sherlock’s stomach. It felt like the most natural thing in the world and that made Sherlock frown again. 

“Want to talk about it?” 

Sherlock turned his head, meeting Greg’s gaze and seeing the sliver of doubt in them. Sherlock bit his lip, trying to order his own thoughts and feelings when Greg spoke again, his voice barely a whisper. 

“Do you regret it?” 

“What? No. No of course not!” Sherlock moved, sitting upright, shaking his head frantically when he was the ambiguity in Greg’s expression. “No. I don’t regret anything we did, Greg. Please, you have to believe me.” 

Sherlock reached out, cupping Greg’s face in his hands and bringing his own head forward, their noses almost touching. “I will never regret this. I was just thinking- it just feels strange. But in a good way.” Sherlock rambled on, trying to express what he felt but somehow finding his words to be lacking. He let out a frustrated sigh, dropping his hands from Greg’s face and running a hand through his hair. 

“Nobody has ever been- I mean, I’ve kissed before of course but no one- and then the nicknames. It’s just, it’s just- a bit overwhelming.” Sherlock finished, casting his eyes down, feeling silly for being so incomprehensible. Why was this so hard to express? 

“I think I understand, Love.” Greg smiled when Sherlock met his eyes, Greg’s thumb stroking Sherlock’s hand. Somehow it seemed like Greg wanted to touch him all the time, seemingly doing it without knowing. It eased some of Sherlock’s weirdness, his shoulders dropping and the tension in his jaw releasing. Greg’s smile grew wider and Sherlock could only smile back, his cheeks feeling warm as Greg’s eyes stayed on Sherlock’s. 

“If you’re bothered with the nicknaming then I’ll stop.” 

“I. I don’t mind.” Sherlock whispered, closing his eyes when Greg’s other thumb stroked his cheek. Greg leaned forward, keeping his lips only millimeters from Sherlock’s. 

“If you want this to be a one-time thing, than- than I understand.” 

“What?” Sherlock’s brain needed a couple of seconds to focus on Greg’s words instead of his mouth. Greg’s thumb was still stroking Sherlock’s hand, sending little sparks of electricity through Sherlock’s body. 

“I just ask that you don’t delete any of this. It would, well, it would break me, to be honest.” 

“Delete? What- Why?” Sherlock pulled back, removing his hand from Greg’s and turning it into a fist. He shook his head, briefly closing his eyes and replaying the last few minutes. When the meaning of Greg’s words finally hit him, he snapped his eyes open, grabbing Greg’s face between his hands and crashing their mouths together so fast and hard it was actually painful. 

“What the hell-” Greg cursed, letting out a moan when Sherlock claimed his mouth again, moving to sit in Greg’s lap and exploring every inch inside Greg’s mouth. 

“Fuck.” Greg panted out when Sherlock needed to come up for air. He didn’t move, his fingers running through Greg’s hair, going down his scalp, his neck, his shoulders, running down Greg’s arms, and going back up via his stomach and chest. He kept touching Greg, wanting to feel everything, his mouth leaving kisses on Greg’s nose, his cheeks, and his mouth before going down to Greg’s neck and latching on. 

“What- fuck, Sherlock! What are you doing.” Greg asked, arms wrapping around Sherlock, his hands finding Sherlock’s arse and gripping him tightly. Sherlock moaned and Greg gasped when Sherlock sucked a mark on Greg’s neck, his nails running down Greg’s arms. 

“I don’t want to forget.” Sherlock said between kisses, going to the other side of Greg’s neck and licking and nipping the skin again. Greg’s nails dug into Sherlock’s arse, pushing them closer and Sherlock purred when he felt Greg’s half-hard cock against him. 

“You-you don’t?” Greg’s breathing was labored, his cheeks red as he looked into Sherlock’s eyes. Sherlock licked Greg’s lips, probing Greg to open his mouth and invite him in. Greg growled, moving to turn them around, pinning Sherlock down with his body. His eyes were wide and dark and Sherlock shivered, seeing the desire in them. 

“I never want to forget. I- Greg.” Sherlock swallowed, his nipples turning hard as Greg moved, brushing their cocks together. Sherlock’s eyes fell closed, arching his back and exposing his neck and Greg took full advantage, licking and teasing the sensitive skin. 

“G-Greg. I- oh, please.” Sherlock babbled, running his nails down Greg’s back, pushing up when Greg wrapped his hand around Sherlock’s cock and started pumping it. 

“You’re mine. You’re mine now, Sunshine. No one else is allowed to see you like this. Look at me.” 

Sherlock opened his eyes, his cock twitching as he saw the truth of Greg’s words in Greg’s eyes. He nodded, reaching for Greg’s face, letting Greg claim his mouth as he worked Sherlock faster. 

“Say it.” Greg growled near his ear and Sherlock gasped, bucking up, nails digging into Greg’s back as the tension became too much. 

“I’m- I’m y-yours. Yours!” Sherlock shouted, spilling over Greg’s fingers and his own stomach. His vision turned blurry and then he heard Greg near his ear, grunting and praising his as the bed rocked. 

“Yours, Greg. Only yours.” Sherlock opened his eyes just in time to see Greg come, his semen landing on Sherlock’s stomach and mixing with his own. Greg dropped down next to Sherlock, letting out a grunt, wrapping his arm around Sherlock’s stomach and pulling him close for another kiss. Sherlock had never felt more alive, more loved than in that moment. 


	9. POV Greg: after second time

“Lestrade, you have to release me.” 

“Why?” 

“Because I don’t want to be stuck on you forever?” 

“Oh, you’re breaking my heart, Sweetheart.” Greg whispered near Sherlock’s ear as he shifted, pressing himself as close as possible. He could practically see Sherlock pull a face as he buried his nose in Sherlock’s head, spreading their mixed cum around on Sherlock’s stomach. Somehow he wasn’t able to stop himself, placing a kiss on Sherlock’s collarbone before pulling back to watch the mess they’d made. 

_“Yours, Greg. Only yours.”_ Greg’s body tingled as he remembered Sherlock’s words from earlier, seeing the truth in his eyes as he made him come for the second time that night. He smirked, kissing Sherlock’s cheek and when he pulled away Sherlock rolled his eyes at him before looking down on himself and pulling up his nose. 

“Satisfied?” Sherlock asked, a glint of warmth in his voice. Greg’s smirk got wider, leaning forward to kiss Sherlock again but Sherlock blocked him off, shaking his head firmly as he climbed out of bed. 

“Urg, spoilsport.” Greg grumbled, dropping down on the bed, turning his head so he could watch Sherlock walk towards the bathroom. The heat and desire in the pit of his stomach flickered up as he watched Sherlock’s perfect arse sway before his eyes. He turned on his back, letting out a sigh as he looked up at the ceiling, hearing the water run in the shower. How had this even happened? One minute they were watching television, the next they’d been kissing. 

Greg smiled like a loon, his cooling body forming goosebumps as he thought about everything they’d just done, everything they’d just shared. From what Sherlock had said tonight, Greg figured Sherlock hadn’t had sex like this before and it made his heart swell, being allowed to see Sherlock like this. To be able to touch him in the most intimate of ways, to be able to kiss him, hear him moan and grunt and say his name. 

God! The way Sherlock said his name! Just thinking about it rose the fire inside him and closed his eyes, seeing Sherlock’s face as he came. 

“Greg.” 

Greg snapped his eyes open, lifting up his head and smiling when he met Sherlock's eyes. Sherlock was glorious, standing their totally naked, a fierceness in his eyes that made Greg sit up and look at him in question. 

“Will you join me?” Sherlock asked, batting his lashes after a second, the sliver of shyness behind the confidence turning Greg’s knees weak. He scrambled out of bed, nearly falling when his foot got tangled in the sheets. Sherlock took his arms, amusement in his eyes and Greg huffed. 

“Can’t blame me, Sunshine. Seeing you all naked and wet, dream come true.” 

Sherlock’s blush was adorable and Greg kissed him, Sherlock's body leaning into Greg’s. 

“You’re distracting me.” Sherlock whispered, licking his lips, stealing another kiss. 

“Want me to stop?” Greg asked, running his nails lightly down Sherlock’s back, delighted when Sherlock shivered, pressing himself closer and pouting for Greg’s mouth. Greg laughed, letting Sherlock claim his mouth before walking them inside of the bathroom. 

“Go on. Get in there.” Greg commanded, pushing Sherlock towards the shower, quickly following him. The warm water made him groan, pressing Sherlock against the wall and kissing him under the spray. 

“Can I clean you up?” Greg asked, running his hands up and down Sherlock’s chest, pinching his nipple playfully. 

“Seems only fair since you are the reason I’m so dirty.” Sherlock answered, moving into Greg’s touch, letting out a strangled sound when Greg took the nipple inside his mouth and sucked it. Sherlock’s fingers went to Greg’s hair, pulling it and Greg moaned, biting down gently on the raised pebble. 

“If only I was a few years younger. God, the way you respond!” Greg said, pinching Sherlock’s other nipple, running his free hand over Sherlock’s body. Sherlock wiped away the hair before his eyes, his lips red and lush and inviting. Greg’s hand wandered down, stroking Sherlock’s cock, feeling the barest of a twitch. 

“Greg, I-” 

“It’s okay, Sunshine. Just like to tease you.” Greg smiled, reaching out for the bottle of soap and the washcloth. He slid his hands over Sherlock’s shoulders, going down his arms before going up again and sliding down his upper body. Sherlock’s eyes fell closed, holding unto Greg for support as Greg continued.

Greg carefully kneeled down, his knees protesting just a tad as they met the wet, cold floor. He took his time washing Sherlock’s legs, tapping Sherlock's ankle so sherlock could lift up his foot. Sherlock giggle when Greg washed between his toes, then went back up to pay attention to sherlock’s pelvis. 

“Oh.” Sherlock bit his lip, looking down at Greg, petting his hair. His cock was twitching, clearly enjoying the attention and maybe Greg took more time than was strictly necessary. He only wanted to be thorough, that was all. 

“Turn around. God, that arse of yours.” Greg breathed out, not able to resist placing a kiss on the cheeks, Sherlock jolting in surprise. He took the same care as before to clean Sherlock op, Sherlock placing his hands on the shower wall, his forehead pressed against it. Water cascaded down from his back and Greg wanted to eat him out right there. He wondered what Sherlock would taste like, how he would smell. He closed his eyes as he imaged what it would feel like, to take Sherlock slowly, bury himself in that tight arse. He dropped the washcloth, running his hands over Sherlock’s arse, kneading it, hearing Sherlock’s gasps. 

“Greg.” 

“Fuck, I can’t stop touching you, Sweetheart. You’re so damn sexy.” Greg breathed out, spreading Sherlock’s arse cheeks, watching the water run down his crack. 

“Greg.” The sliver of anxiousness in Sherlock’s face snapped Greg back to his senses. He looked up, seeing Sherlock’s head turned towards him, his eyes wide. Greg released his hands, picking up the washcloth and Sherlock was there to help him up, gnawing his lip. 

“Sorry, Sunshine, got carried away for a bit there. You okay?” Greg asked, letting out a breath when Sherlock nodded. “You should rinse off, I don’t think I missed a spot.” 

Sherlock smiled, stepping under the spray, his hands moving over his body to wash away the rest of their cum and the soap. Something settled inside Greg’s throat as Sherlock pulled away from the spray, all nice and clean. 

“I’m still yours, Greg.” Sherlock wrapped Greg into a hug, placing a kiss on the spot where neck and shoulder met. 

“I didn’t-” Greg sputtered when Sherlock pulled back, taking the washcloth and adding more soap, his face in pure concentration as he dragged it over Greg’s body. 

“You were. It’s okay.” Sherlock said, that softness in his eyes melting Greg’s heart. He touched Sherlock’s cheek, cupping it and just looked at him. Sherlock’s mouth lifted into a shy smile and Greg stroked Sherlock’s cheek with his thumb, smiling back at him. 

“Let’s go to bed, Sweetheart. I want you in my arms.” 

“O-Okay.” Sherlock said, his blush making Greg’s smile grow bigger. They quickly washed and dried themselves, Sherlock mumbling about his hair as he got dressed until Greg wrapped an arm around his waist and kissed him, pulling some curls lightly. 

“I love your hair like this. Makes you look adorable.”

“Urg.” Sherlock pulled a face, breaking out of Greg’s hold and walking back to the bedroom. Greg giggled, sliding in next to Sherlock. His heart skipped a beat when Sherlock wrapped around him, a leg and arm draped over Greg, his head resting on Greg’s shoulder. It felt natural as if they’d slept like this for years and Greg let out a content sigh as he settled. 

“I don’t want this night to end.” 

Greg had started dozing off, the stress of the day, and the satisfying night getting to him when Sherlock spoke up. Sherlock shifted, his fingers tracing lines and patterns on Greg’s stomach. Greg looked down at Sherlock’s curls, feeling Sherlock’s body tense. 

“I don’t want it to end either. It feels, like I’m in a dream. Being here with you, all of this.” Greg moved his arm between them and Sherlock sat up, turning his head to face him. 

“I never thought in a million years that you-” Greg stopped, biting his lip before smiling at Sherlock, seeing the beginning frown on his face. 

“Why wouldn’t I, Greg?” Sherlock asked, his frown deepening when Greg huffed. 

“I’m just me, Sherlock. Boring and normal _Lestrade_.” There was an edge to his own voice that Greg didn’t like and he saw Sherlock’s expression shift, reaching out his hand to take Greg’s. Greg let out a sigh when Sherlock kissed his knuckles, eyes focused on Greg the whole time. 

“You’re not boring. Not at all.” Sherlock said after a moment, his face stern when Greg shifted his eyes away just a second. “You aren’t, Greg. You are extraordinary. You always surprise me.”

“I-” Greg shook his head, running a hand through his hair, letting out a surprised gasp when Sherlock claimed his mouth. The kiss was intense, full with purpose and Greg melted into it, his fingers playing with Sherlock’s nap. He blinked in surprise when Sherlock pulled back, smiling when Sherlock placed a last peck on his lips. 

“You are special, Greg. Special to me. I- I will do better in the future to show you that.” Sherlock’s cheeks turned a light pink but he kept his eyes on Greg, his expression open and honest. Greg’s heart soared, part of him still not believing any of this was real. It was that part that spoke out, asking the question that had been on his mind ever since they’d first kissed. 

“What happens tomorrow, Sherlock?” 


	10. POV Sherlock: Talking about the future

“What happens tomorrow, Sherlock?” 

The question hung in the air between them and maybe for the first time in his life, Sherlock didn’t know the answer. His heart felt cold when he met Greg’s eyes, worry, and doubt seeping in as he tried to understand the reason behind Greg’s question. Did Greg want to forget about tonight? Was he worried about the awkwardness between them once they got back at the Yard? They’d said a lot of things tonight, made a few promises but Sherlock knew that everything felt different in the light of day. 

“Sherlock?” Greg’s voice was soft, questioning, and Sherlock blinked, trying to focus on this very moment. Greg was still here with him, in bed, looking lovely and Sherlock wanted to remember every second of it. He reached out, tenderly brushing over Greg’s face, his throat feeling tight as Greg closed his eyes and leaned into the touch. So trusting. 

“Why do I have the feeling you are already saying goodbye?” Greg whispered after a moment, his eyes scanning Sherlock’s face, taking hold of his biceps. Sherlock gave a sad smile, meeting Greg in a tender kiss. 

“Sherlock-” 

“I. I don’t know what will happen tomorrow, Greg.” Sherlock whispered, disliking how fragile his voice sounded. There was a band around his heart, squeezing tightly and Sherlock blinked his eyes, trying to stop the upcoming tears. 

_ Don’t be a baby, Sherlock! Grown men don’t cry! _

Sherlock breathed in and out, focussing his eyes on Greg’s face, moving closer to him and Greg wrapped his arms around him, stroking his back. 

“Oh, Sherlock.” 

“I don’t want you to leave, Lestrade. I don’t want to pretend like none of this happened.” Sherlock said, tears running down his cheeks. He bit his lip hard but the tears kept coming and he hid his face in Greg’s shoulder. 

“I don’t want to leave either, Sunshine. Shhh, it’s alright. Deep breaths, darling, shhh.” 

After a while Sherlock was able to breathe again, his eyes feeling small as he lifted his head up, meeting Greg’s eyes for a millisecond. His cheeks were wet and warm, embarrassment creeping in. 

“Do you want some water? Anything else?” Greg asked when Sherlock shook his head, still not able to meet Greg’s gaze but also not able to pull away. He needed to feel him, needed Greg to keep him grounded. Greg’s hand was still stroking his back firmly and Sherlock allowed it to calm him down, ignoring the voices in his head that were telling him, screaming at him, to run and hide. 

“I don’t see this as a one-time thing, Sherlock. If you do, then I’ll have to accept that but I-” 

“I don’t see it as a one-time thing either. I never. I mean- You mean a lot to me, Greg.” Sherlock finally lifted up his head, meeting Greg’s gaze head-on. What he saw there blew his mind and he blinked, leaning a little closer to see better. 

“You. You love me?” Sherlock asked, part of him not able to believe it even when Greg nodded, his expression even more open. Greg wasn’t hiding anything, laying all his feelings bare and it was almost too overwhelming to witness. Sherlock’s fingers trembled when he reached out, touching Greg’s face, holding it in both hands as his eyes scanned further. 

Greg didn’t answer, he just let Sherlock watch him, showing him everything and Sherlock’s mouth fell open, mentally berating himself for being such an idiot. 

“You love me,” Sherlock said, his smile growing when Greg rolled his eyes at him. 

“Of course I do, you idiot.” 

“Oi, that’s my line,” Sherlock whispered, joy running through him as Greg laughed, running his fingers through Sherlock’s hair. Their mouth found each other again, Greg letting out a hungry sigh that went straight to Sherlock’s cock. 

“I’m in love with you too.” Sherlock said, pressing Greg down on the mattress, laying on top of him. He didn’t give Greg time to answer, he just started kissing him again, his hands traveling down Greg’s body. Greg sighed when they pulled back for air, fondness in his eyes, placing a kiss on the corner of Sherlock’s lips. 

“I would love to go again but I’m an old man, Sunshine. You have to give me time to recover.” Greg smiled, leaving another peck, this time on Sherlock’s nose. 

Sherlock huffed. “You’re not old.” 

“Older than you, Sweetheart. And, unlike you, I do need sleep to function.” Greg smirked, pulling Sherlock’s curls. Sherlock pouted but shifted off Greg, plastering himself against Greg’s side, his head on Greg’s shoulder. 

“I sleep, Lestrade. Just don’t snore too much.” 

“Can’t make any promises, Sunshine.” 


	11. POV Greg: the next day

“I can feel you watching me.” 

Greg smiled when he heard Sherlock’s sleep laced voice. He shifted ever so slightly, his smile growing bigger when Sherlock wrapped around him again, letting out a content little sigh. Greg kissed the top of Sherlock’s curls, trying to run his fingers through it but getting tangled up halfway. Sherlock let out a sigh, lifting up his head and looking at Greg. 

“You just ruined my hair, Lestrade.” 

“I think I just made it better, Sunshine.” Greg said, kissing Sherlock’s lips. His heart did a flip when he saw the beginning blush on Sherlock’s cheeks and he caressed it with his thumb, whispering another endearment near Sherlock’s ear. 

“You’re adorable when you blush, Sweetheart.” 

“I do not blush, Lestrade.” Sherlock said, his voice not nearly as stern as he tried it to be. Greg giggled, traveling his hand down Sherlock’s side, pulling him closer so Sherlock was on top of him. 

“You do blush. Very nicely, I might add. Makes me want to kiss you all over again. Hear you moan my name.” Greg whispered, his hands sliding down Sherlock’s back, grabbing Sherlock’s arse and squeezing. Sherlock let out a soft moan, his eyes going wider, lower body moving against Greg’s groin. 

“Good morning.” Greg smirked, pushing Sherlock against him, drinking up Sherlock’s answering gasp. Sherlock looked down at him, his eyes wide and already a little unfocused. His curls were wild, all over the place and Greg pulled a strand, wrapping it around his finger before kissing Sherlock again, not caring about morning breath. 

“G-Greg.” Sherlock wriggled above him, his hands going over Greg’s body as he tried to keep kissing him. 

“Want me to wake you up properly, Darling?” Greg teased, licking Sherlock’s earlobe, grinding their hard cocks together. Sherlock mumbled an answer and Greg smiled, flipping Sherlock over, making quick work to remove Sherlock’s pants and take his cock in hand. 

“I. Greg-” Sherlock gasped as Greg started stroking, leaving tiny kisses on his stomach and the inside of Sherlock’s tight. Greg watched Sherlock, seeing how beautiful he looked, his hair a mess, his cheeks flushed and pink, his cock hard and throbbing underneath Greg’s movements. 

Greg licked the top of Sherlock’s cockhead, Sherlock arching his back, fingers finding their way to Greg’s head. Sherlock’s breathing changed, going shallow as Greg wrapped his lips around Sherlock’s cock, doing all the things he knew had worked last night. 

“G-Greg. Oh, god, please!” Sherlock breathed out, fingers grabbing Greg’s hair, hips moving restlessly and Greg moaned around Sherlock’s cock, hollowing his cheeks and picking up the pace just so. He played with Sherlock’s balls, feeling Sherlock’s thighs quiver, his cock swelling, and then Sherlock was coming, moaning out Greg’s name. Greg swallowed most of Sherlock’s release, his scalp tingling as Sherlock had pulled his hair hard. He guided Sherlock through the aftershocks, feeling Sherlock’s cock deflate in his mouth and only then pulled off slowly. He left a trail of kisses on Sherlock’s thighs, going up towards his stomach and chest, stopping to suck a mark in Sherlock’s neck before kissing him deeply. 

“You’re amazing.” Greg said, watching as Sherlock lazily blinked his eyes, licking his lips to taste himself. Sherlock reached out, grabbing Greg and kissing him deeply, both of them moaning as their tongues explored each other. Greg rutted against Sherlock’s leg, Sherlock’s hand wandering down after a moment, taking Greg’s cock and adding friction. 

“Yeah. Just like that, Baby.” Greg panted in Sherlock’s ear, moving quickly, licking and sucking Sherlock’s neck as he reached for his own release. 

“I want you to come on my stomach. Mark me as yours.” Sherlock said in Greg’s ear, adding speed and pressure to his movements. Greg growled, finding Sherlock’s mouth and kissing it sloppily, soon lost in his own sensations, only aware of Sherlock’s hand on his aching cock. 

“Make me yours, Greg.” 

“F-fuck! Sherlock, I-” Greg cursed, his orgasm taking him by surprise and spilling all over Sherlock's fingers and stomach. His body shivered through the aftershocks, strings of cum decorating Sherlock like a work of art. Sherlock removed his hand, sitting down on Greg’s lap and licking his fingers clean. Greg’s cock gave a painful little throb and Sherlock smiled, somehow being totally sexy and shy at the same time. 

“Sherlock.” Greg swallowed, his eyes going over Sherlock’s body, seeing the faint hickeys on his neck, his cum on Sherlock’s belly. Something deep inside Greg roared, making him blush when Sherlock squinted his eyes, understanding lighting them up, a faint smirk on his lips. 

“I already told you I’m yours. I still am.” 

“Sherlock, I-” 

“I don’t mind.” Sherlock simply said, leaning down to kiss Greg’s again, rubbing their noses against each other before pulling back, placing his hands on Greg’s stomach. “I like it, the idea of being yours. Of us, being together.” 

Greg needed a second to figure out Sherlock’s expression and when he did he sat up, leaning on his elbows. 

“I still want to give this a try, Sherlock. I haven’t changed my mind.” 

“Are you sure? I’m not-” Sherlock started, biting his lower lip as he looked down at Greg. Greg sat up fully, Sherlock moving so he could wrap his legs around Greg, his hands still stroking Greg’s stomach. 

“We don’t have to be perfect at this, Sherlock. No one is. We can just be ourselves and see how it goes. Take our time, yeah?” Greg asked, pinching Sherlock’s cheek, smiling when Sherlock scrunched his nose up. 

“Take our time?” Sherlock asked, meeting Greg’s eyes, scanning his face as if trying to decipher a riddle. 

“All the time we need, Sunshine. I’m a patient man.” Greg smiled, cupping Sherlock’s face and kissing him. Sherlock’s cheeks were a nice pink when they parted, a hint of shyness in his eyes when he nodded, hesitantly smiling back at Greg. 

“What do you think? Shower first, maybe some breakfast, and then we can go back to the case?” 

“Sounds like a good plan but-” Sherlock stopped, worrying his lower lip and Greg pulled it out with his thumb, a frown between his eyes. 

“But what, Sherlock?” 

“Maybe we can shower, have breakfast and then go back to bed, at least for a little longer? I solved the case after you went asleep.” 

“Wait, really?” Greg asked, Sherlock nodded his head again, pride in his eyes. “How?”

“It wasn’t that hard after all. Just needed some distance to see it.”

“So, us having sex helped you solve the case? Don’t know if I should put that in the report.” Greg mused, letting out a yelp when Sherlock found a tickle spot on him. He laughed, trying to roll away and keep Sherlock off him. Sherlock laughed with him, laying down next to Greg, his eyes sparkling with mischief. Greg already knew that he would never get tired of seeing this side of Sherlock. The playful, vulnerable side that no one else got to see. It made his heart swell, kissing Sherlock deeply, making him moan. 

“Time for a shower, don’t want you all sticky again.” 

“I asked for it.” 

“That you did.” Greg smiled, biting Sherlock’s shoulder lightly before getting up, pulling Sherlock with him. “You’re going to tell me how you solved the case, right?” 

“Of course I will. But even an idiot could figure it out, eventually;” 

“Oi! Don’t get all cocky with me now. I did help you solve it, remember.” Greg grinned, patting Sherlock’s arse as he followed him into the bathroom, closing the door behind them. 

Outside, the snow began to melt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find me on Tumblr: https://writingfanficsfan.tumblr.com/


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